


The Man in White

by msvallawton



Series: The Surrogate Sister Series [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4129933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msvallawton/pseuds/msvallawton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After working for Mycroft for three years, Victoria is finally able to take some time off and visit her friends at Baker Street, and just in time for Christmas. However, much lies ahead for her in London, and she may not be prepared for what— or who— is to come.</p><p>This is a sequel to The Surrogate Sister</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A lot can happen in three years. Like John meeting Mary Morstan, a woman he fell in love with so dearly, and proposed to a year later. A wedding turned murder investigation followed shortly after, with Sherlock as the best man. Not very surprising the turn out of that whole event.

Victoria unfortunately missed all of this, not to her request, but Mycroft's. Doing job after job for the man nonstop. Not that she'd ever complain, she loves what she does. It's just unfortunate that she hasn't visited Baker Street in so long.

Luckily, John had managed to keep her up to date through emails, calls, letters, whatever way possible. Sherlock would talk to her on the phone every so often, but Victoria knows he's not one for small talk so she didn't expect much out of him.

It was Mycroft, however, who had filled her in on the news John clearly didn't want to share. The news about Mary and Moriarty. (Of course, Moriarty being back wasn't much of a surprise to her.)

But after three years of separation from the people she now calls her family, she is finally able to come home. Mycroft has given her two months off starting late December. Victoria told John as soon as she found out, and they made arrangements for him to pick her up from the airport Christmas Day. Mrs. Hudson also insisted that Victoria stay in John's old room for the next couple months.

\-----------

John picks Victoria off the ground as he embraces her in a tight bear hug. "Hey you!"

"Hi John," Victoria giggles. "God, I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." John pulls away and smiles at her. "We all have. Sherlock won't say it,  
but I know he misses you." John pauses for a moment to look at her. His smile warms. "Merry Christmas, Tory."

Victoria chuckles. "A merry Christmas it is!"

John picks up Victoria's bags and they begin walking out the airport.

"So how are things over at Baker Street?" Victoria asks.

"Good. Well," John pauses. "Good under the circumstances. Mrs. Hudson is preparing for the Christmas party tonight. The flat has had this wonderful aroma of cookies all day."

Victoria laughs. Mrs. Hudson always goes full out when it comes to holidays. "How about the family?"

"Good." John's tone isn't as cheerful as the previous answer. "Things are... good."

"How's little Ollie?"

John's face lights up. "Oh, Olivia is wonderful. Nine months and she's already walking. Incredible, she is! And she's very excited to meet you, as is Mary."

"Well, I'm really excited to meet them!" Victoria smiles at John. John hails them a cab and the two make their way to Baker Street.

"So what have you been up to?" John asks.

"Oh... the usual stuff" Victoria smiles, knowing that about 90% of the things she's done over the past three years is classified information that she can't share. "I've been traveling a bit."

"I see you've changed up your look." John motions at Victoria's chopped hair.

"Yeah," Victoria chuckles and ruffles her hair a bit. "A little more practical than that Rapunzel hair of mine."

"Well, I think it really suits you."

Victoria smiles. "Thank you John." Wanting to change the subject off her hair, she asks, "So how about you and Sherlock? Any good cases lately?"

"A few cases here and there. Nothing all that interesting to share." John sighs. "Sherlock has been mostly focusing on one specific case for the past year or so now."

Victoria doesn't ask about the case. She can easily figure out what it's about.

When they reach and open the front door to 221 Baker Street, they are immediately welcomed by the strong scent of chocolate chip cookies. John certainly wasn't joking about that. The door to Mrs. Hudson's flat flies open as John shuts the front door. Mrs. Hudson walks out, apron and oven mitts on, with a huge smile her face. She opens her arms and rushes towards Victoria. "Hello, dear!"

The two embrace. "Hi Mrs. Hudson."

The landlady let's go and takes a step back to examine Victoria. "You look well!" She motions to Victoria's clothing. "Still wearing all black, I see."

Victoria looks down and chuckles. She's wearing a loose black knit top over sleek black skinny jeans. On her feet are tall knee-high boots with a gold zipper down the back. A nice, black peacoat keeps her warm and a thick deep red infinity scarf around her neck to add that small bit of color. "It's definitely an upgrade from the ripped jeans and the tattered sweatshirt."

Mrs. Hudson laughs. "Oh, yes. This is much better. And your hair! You look gorgeous!"

Victoria blushes a bit. "Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."

John lightly nudges Victoria. "I'll bring your bags up to the room." Victoria thanks him as he walks up the stairs.

Mrs. Hudson grabs Victoria's hand with both of her's. "It really is such a pleasure to see you again, dear."

Victoria smiles and places her hand on top of the landlady's. "I've really missed you guys."

Mrs. Hudson gently squeezes Victoria's hands. "We've missed you too." She turns towards the stairs. "Sherlock is upstairs. Go on and say hi. I'm sure he'll be very happy to see you."

Victoria smiles and releases her grip, making her way up the stairs and slowly walking towards the flat. She stops at the door and leans against the door frame. Sherlock is sitting in his chair, his eyes closed. His elbows rest on the arms of the chair and his palms are together, fingers resting on his chin. He's deep in thought. Victoria knows better than to disturb him. She knocks on the door anyway.

"Go away, I'm busy." Sherlock says, his eyes remaining closed.

"Well, hello to you too."

Sherlock's eyes fly open. "Oh! Hello, Victoria."

"Hello again, Sherlock." Victoria crosses her arms. "Long time, no see."

"How was your flight?" Sherlock asks, his gaze moving to the kitchen, deep in thought.

"Eh." Victoria takes a few steps in. "It was alright. Nothing exciting."

"Hm."

"How about you? What have you been up to?"

"Oh, same old." Sherlock's cell chirps and he whips it out to read the message. "John!" He calls out as he gets up and walks to the door.

John walks into the room? "Yeah?"

"Lestrade needs us at Scotland Yard." Sherlock says as he throws on his infamous coat and scarf. John reaches over and grabs his jacket off the hanger as Sherlock rushes out the door.

John looks over at Victoria. "We won't be long," he reassures her.

Victoria smiles. She remembers this all too well. "Just go. And don't enjoy yourself too much."

John smiles and walks out the door. Victoria takes a deep breath and places her hands in her pockets. She looks around the room. It's the same flat she had left three years ago. Nothing much has changed at all.

Suddenly, Victoria hears footsteps behind her. She turns to find Sherlock at the door.

"It really is great to see you again, Tory," he says, a warm smile in his face.

Victoria walks over and pulls him into a hug. Sherlock wraps his arms around her tight. "And I apologize for leaving like this."

Victoria chuckles, "It's fine, I totally understand." She lifts her head and looks up at Sherlock. "Now go. Scotland Yard needs you." She smiles. "Go save Christmas."

Sherlock chuckles and kisses her forehead before releasing his grip. "We won't be long."

"Just go." Victoria insists, and she watches as Sherlock runs down the stairs and out the door.

\----------

"Oh, Victoria, dear, I love it!" Mrs. Hudson exclaims as she holds up a beautiful tan colored peacoat.

"I got it in Paris a few weeks ago." Victoria smiles. "When I saw it, I instantly thought of you."

"Aww," Mrs. Hudson gets up from the couch to give Victoria a hug. "Thank you sweetie, I love it."  
Victoria returns the embrace. "Oh!" She releases and turns to Lestrade. "I got something for you, too." She grabs a small present wrapped in green off the coffee table and tosses it over to the Detective Inspector.

Lestrade, a bit surprised by the gesture, opens the present. His eyes grow wide. "Wow."

"John told me how you'd always complain about your watch stopping at the most random and inconvenient of times, so I figured you needed a new one."

Lestrade takes out an expensive gold Bvlgari watch and examines it. "...Wow." He looks up at Victoria with a childlike grin. "Thank you!"

Victoria smiles and nods. She turns to Sherlock. Sherlock shakes his head. "I don't need anything."

"Well, it's too late, 'cause I already got you something." She grabs a gift bag off the table and walks over to Sherlock, who's sitting in his usual chair. She hands him the present.

Sherlock rolls his eyes playfully and digs through the tissue paper at the opening of the red gift bag and takes out a blue scarf.

"Your scarf has been through so much and it's starting to fall apart, so I thought-"

"Thank you." Sherlock interrupts. He looks up and smiles at Victoria.

Victoria smiles back. She then looks around the room, her eyebrows furrowed. "Where's John?"

"John got held up at the office." Sherlock pauses. He hears the faint sound of a car door slamming. "But it looks like The Watsons have arrived."

Shortly after, John runs up the stairs and enters holding Olivia in his arm. Everyone greets him and moves towards him to say hello to little Watson, who is wearing the cutest of Holiday dresses.

"Where's Mary?" Mrs. Hudson asks after a few moments of pinching Olivia's cheeks.

"She's getting the presents and food out of the trunk." John replies.

"I'll go help her out." Lestrade volunteers as he begins walking out of the room.

"Thanks Greg." John turns to Victoria. "Look, Ollie! It's Auntie Tory! Say hi!"

Victoria smiles and moves closer to them. "Hi Ollie." She wiggles Olivia's little hand with her finger. Olivia smiles and lightly grabs the finger as Victoria continues to wiggle it. "It's very nice to finally meet you, Olivia." Victoria's eyes grow wide. "I got you a present." She walks over to the coffee table and grabs a blue gift bag. She hands it to John. He grabs it and places it in the hand supporting Olivia. With the free hand, he takes out a pretty pink toddler dress. Along with a little white headband. "I wasn't sure what dress size to get, so I may have gotten a size too big."

"It's perfect, thank you." John smiles. He looks down at Olivia in his arms and shows her the dress. "Look, Ollie! A new dress for you to stain." Olivia smiles and claps her hands and the room chuckles.

Lestrade walks in holding a casserole dish in one hand and a few box presents in the other.

"Here, I got it." Victoria grabs the dish from Lestrade and brings it into the kitchen. Lestrade sets the presents down on the coffee table and brings the dish to the kitchen.

"There she is!" Victoria hears John say in the other room.

"Merry Christmas everyone!" A woman's voice exclaims.

Figuring that this is Mary, Victoria quickly sets the casserole dish down and runs out into the living room. She makes eye contact with the blonde woman standing next to John.

Victoria freezes.

And Mary's eyes grow wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins (:
> 
> Also, side-note: I am a visual person, and I feel like describing Victoria's appearance in this fic is crucial to the plot and her character development. SO bear with me, because I will be fairly descriptive on her clothing and appearance in general. Also... it's so y'all can kinda see what I see in my head, and how I picture her.


	2. Chapter 2

Victoria quickly snaps out of it and forms a convincing smile on her face as she walks towards the couple.

John smiles and motions towards Victoria. “Mary, this is Victoria.” He turns to Victoria. “Tory, Mary.”

Victoria offers her hand, “Pleasure to finally meet you, Mary.” Victoria tries her hardest to hide the shock of recognition on her face with the warmest of smiles. Mary, whose smile seems less convincing, takes Victoria’s hand and nods. The two share eye contact as they shake hands for a few moments, Mary’s brows furrowing a bit.

“Ah! I’m sorry I’m late!”

A woman storms into the flat carrying a bag of presents. “I had to finish a few things at work.” She turns to Lestrade. “Hold this for me for a sec?” Lestrade takes the bag of presents from her as she proceeds to take off her coat and scarf. She is wearing a loose, red button-down blouse loosely tucked into a dark red plaid midi-skirt that goes down to the top of her knees. Her hair is done half-up, loosely curled, and her makeup consists of a lot of mascara and red lipstick. She hangs her coat on the coat hanger and turns to the crowd. “Merry Christmas everyone! What did I miss?”

Everyone greets her with open arms. Well, everyone except Sherlock of course. He sits in his chair and wishes her a Merry Christmas from there. He hasn’t gotten up since the party began. The young woman passes out her gifts while Mrs. Hudson pours her a glass of wine. The lot begins talking amongst each other, catching up with one another and generally mingling.

“You must be Molly Hooper,” Victoria smiles. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

Molly blushes. “Really? Have you?”

“Yeah, Sherlock has mentioned you a few times.” 

Molly’s expression lights up as she takes a quick glance at the consulting detective sitting in his chair. “He has?”

“A bit yeah,” Victoria takes a sip of her wine, taking note of Molly’s sudden change of expression. However, before she can say anything more, Lestrade steps in, insistent of talking to Molly.

Victoria shrugs it off and walks over to Sherlock and sits on the armrest of his chair. She leans over to Sherlock. “I can’t help but notice how interested he’s been in Miss Hooper since she got here.”

“Hmm.” Sherlock responds, taking a sip from his glass. “He’s been divorced for a couple years now.”

“Really?” She furrows her eyebrows and examines the Detective Inspector. He seems to be thoroughly interested in his conversation with Molly, who is blushing and giggling at the things he says. 

Victoria chuckles and takes another sip of her wine.

“You know her.”

Victoria cocks her head, confused by the statement. “Molly? I’ve only just met her.”

Sherlock responds with a tinge of annoyance. “No.”

Victoria turns to Sherlock, who is glaring at her with curiosity and concern. She quickly looks down at her glass, which is sitting on her lap. She knew her facade wouldn’t work with Sherlock. “Is now really the time?”

“Tory.”

Victoria sighs and lowers her voice, “Yes, I do.”

“When?”

“A long time ago?”

“Where?”

“A lot of places, really.”

“Who?”

“I, uh,” Victoria hesitates a bit. She takes a larger sip of her wine. She glances at Mary, who’s sitting on the couch with Olivia on her lap. She’s distracted and speaking with Mrs. Hudson. “I knew her through Ava.”

“And what happened?”

Victoria turns to Sherlock and speaks coldly, “It’s complicated.”

Sherlock keeps eye contact for a few more moments. “We can’t tell John.”

Victoria lowers her voice to a whisper, “Well of course we won’t tell John. He’s been through more than enough already.” She takes another sip.

Sherlock nods and continues to observe the group as he was before. “Good.”

Someone’s phone starts ringing, and both Victoria and Sherlock’s attention shifts towards the direction of the sound. Lestrade reaches into his pocket, takes out his cell, and reads the caller I.D. “Excuse me for a moment,” he says to Molly as he walks into the kitchen to take the call.

With eyes still on Lestrade, Victoria leans towards Sherlock. “What do you think.”

“Well it’s obviously something very interesting and very distressing to bother us on Christmas,” Sherlock responds, also watching Lestrade, who is speaking on the phone in a low tone.

The Detective Inspector looks up and meets Sherlock’s gaze. “We’ll be right over.” He hangs up the phone and takes a deep breath. He makes his way towards Sherlock.

Sherlock smirks, “And what is it this time?”

“A murder.”

“Well, obviously not any murder if they’re inquiring me.”

At this point, John has become aware of what’s going on and walks over to the group. “Wait, what’s going on?”

Sherlock turns to John, excitement in his eyes. “Murder, John.”

“Mur-” John sighs heavily, a bit miffed. “For God’s sake, it’s Christmas!”

“Yes, it is, John.” Sherlock jumps out of his seat and turns to his roommate with a smirk. “And this is the best Christmas present I’ve gotten yet.” He looks over to Victoria, “No offense.”

Victoria chuckles and shakes her head, “None taken.” God, she’s really missed these two.

Sherlock and Lestrade head for their coats. Sherlock grabs John’s coat and tosses it to him as he says goodbye to Mary and Olivia. “I’m so sorry.”

“C’mon John!” Sherlock yells from halfway down the staircase.

Mary smiles and puts her hand on John’s cheek. “Just go.”

John kisses his wife and the forehead of his daughter before running after Sherlock and Lestrade.

It wasn’t a few moments before Victoria found herself chugging down the rest of her wine, grabbing her coat, and running after the men. It is colder than she anticipated, and she is definitely not dressed for this whether. A fit-and-flare long-sleeved dress with a scalloped neck, 3-inch strappy heels, and a coat that wasn't exactly the warmest. But then, again, she wasn't really expecting to be going out that night.

“What are you doing?” Sherlock asks, eyebrows furrowing the moment she runs up to them.

“No way in hell y’all are leaving me behind.” Victoria responds, a smile on her face. She turns to Sherlock with somewhat of a pleading gaze. _You can’t leave me alone back there._ Sherlock nods in agreement and Victoria’s smile widens.

John smiles at her. “Just like old times, then?”

Victoria chuckles. “Just like old times.”

\---------------

“Hello, Sally,” Sherlock says coldly.

“Hello, Freak,” the woman called Sally responds. She turns to Lestrade. “Shall I warn everyone that the psychopath is here?”

“No need,” Sherlock responds. He smiles sarcastically, “I’ll just make a grand entrance, as always.”  
Sally smiles back with equal sarcasm and rolls her eyes. She lifts the line of police tape to allow Lestrade, Sherlock, and John through. She, however, stops Victoria in her tracks. “Excuse me, but who are you?”

“I’m here with Sherlock.”

Sally raises an eyebrow. “A freak friend of his? Didn’t think he had friends. But sorry, I can’t let you in.”

Sherlock, realizing that Victoria was not walking behind him, turns and makes his way back to the two women. “Sally, she’s-”

Victoria puts up a finger in Sherlock’s direction, ordering him to shut his mouth. She repeats to Sally, “I’m with Sherlock.”

“Well tough. I can’t let you into the crime scene.”

Victoria takes a long deep breath before responding coldly. “My name’s Victoria, and I’m a trained assassin.” She reaches into her coat pocket, grabbing an I.D., and flashes it to Sally. “And I work for the British Government. I will kick your ass in seconds if I have to.” The Detective Sergeant’s eyes grow wide. “Now, allow me to say it again.” She pauses for a moment to glare into Sally’s eyes. “I am here with Sherlock Holmes.”

Sally reluctantly nods and lifts the police tape. “Apologies, miss.” 

Victoria walks under without another glance. Sherlock smirks as he, Victoria, John, and Lestrade make their way to the crime scene. The moment they step into the room, their noses fill with the foul scent of rotting flesh. The three men quickly make their way to the dead body lying on the floor, Sherlock immediately beginning his usual deducing process.

Victoria stays back near the walls and wanders about the room. Nothing in the room seems too out of the ordinary, but she can't help but feel that something is wrong.

"It's obvious! How do you not see it?" Victoria looks over to find Sherlock looking at the doctor and detective inspector in shock of their ignorance.

"Yes, right, obvious," John responds sarcastically.

Victoria smirks and crosses her arms as Sherlock continues his long and convoluted explanation. She continues to examine the room.

That's it.

Everything is green.

The paint on the walls, the rug on the hardwood floor, objects on the shelf and the cluttered desk. The framed photos on the walls have some color scheme of green. The deceased man rotting on the floor is even wearing green.

Victoria can't help but notice it's of an emerald green color scheme. She looks down at her left wrist, which has an emerald and diamond bracelet clasped at it. Her mother's bracelet. It had been passed down from mother to daughter for quite a few generations, each on the daughter's sixteenth birthday. Victoria, however, was forced to acquire it early due to her mother's death. She doesn't wear it much and keeps it safe. It's the only thing she has left of her mother's and she would hate for anything to happen to it.

Victoria smiles from the brief and fond memory of her mom.

“Maybe instead of arguing with me you should go and find the landlord,” Victoria hears Sherlock say.

“But how do you know it was him?” Lestrade questions.

“Drug money?” Victoria interrupts.

The men turn towards her, Sherlock with a bit of a smirk. Lestrade furrows his eyebrows. “Sorry?”

“Well,” Victoria points to the corner of the room. “There’s a huge-ass safe other there. And there’s a box of lab equipment near it. The fact that no one else was able to figure this out sooner is a bit sad, really.”

Lestrade sighs frustratedly. He motions to one of the other officers. “Go find the landlord. Now.” The man rushes out of the room.

As they walk from the crime scene, Victoria can’t help but think about the strangeness of the room. “Sherlock?”

“Hmm?”

She looks up at the detective. “Didn’t you find it… odd that the room, and everything in it, was green?” Victoria asks.

“I didn’t really pay much mind to it,” Sherlock responds.

“So what? It was a coincidence? I thought you didn’t believe in those.”

“I didn’t find it relevant to the murder,” Sherlock says matter-of-fact. 

Victoria doesn’t bother bringing it up again on the journey back to Baker Street. She looks down at her wrist. Her bracelet glistens under the streetlights.

Something’s not right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day? Whaaaaa?
> 
> Well, I mean I assume some of y'all have read the sneak peak, which was basically the majority of the first chapter, so I figured I owed you some new content (:


	3. Chapter 3

When Sherlock, John, and Victoria arrive back at the flat, they find Mary and Molly still sitting and chatting on the couch.

Mary turns to Sherlock, "Olivia's asleep in your room, I hope you don't mind." Sherlock just nods in approval. Mary sighs, "So? Anything exciting this time?"

"Not really, no," John replies.

"Easy. Predictable. Wasn't even worth my time." Sherlock mutters as he plops himself into his chair.

"Where's Greg?" Molly asks shyly.

"Who?" Sherlock furrows his eyebrows and turns to Molly.

"Uh, Lestrade?"

"Ah, Graham yes. We dropped him off at Scotland Yard."

"Oh," Molly looks down in disappointment. Mary places a comforting hand on Molly's knee. The two share eye contact and Mary smiles. Molly sighs, "Well, I guess I better be off then."

"So soon?" Sherlock asks.

Molly raises an eyebrow. "Sherlock, it's one o'clock in the morning."

"Is it?" Sherlock glances down at his watch. "Ah... yes it is."

"Goodnight everyone," Molly says as she puts on her coat. "And Merry Christmas."

Mary stands up to give Molly a hug as everyone says their goodbyes. Victoria, who has been standing by the door, greets Molly as she walks out. "It was really nice to meet you, Molly."

Molly smiles. "Likewise. Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," Victoria responds as she watches Molly walk down the stairs and out the front door.

John takes the spot on the couch next to Mary. Mary looks up at him and smiles. She gently places her hand on John’s, but he moves his hand away from hers. Mary, hiding her disappointment, places her hand back onto her lap. Sherlock observes the couple for a moment, and then moves his gaze over to Victoria, who is staring at the two with a cold expression. Victoria glances over at Sherlock. Realizing that he had been studying her expression, Victoria quickly glances down to the floor. She walks over to John’s chair, across from Sherlock’s, and sits herself down.

“So,” Sherlock rests his elbows on the chair’s armrests and places his palms together. “What have you been up to?” Sherlock and Victoria lock eyes. Sherlock raises an eyebrow and Victoria purses her lips, trying to read his expression. Victoria already doesn’t like where Sherlock was taking this.

“Yeah,” Victoria hears John say in agreement, although she remains staring at the man in front of her. “Anything exciting you can tell us?”

“Uh… no. Not really.” Victoria attempts to brush off the subject, hoping that they’d drop it.

“Oh, c’mon Tory,” Sherlock says is a somewhat sarcastic tone, seeming as if he were really interested. “The past three years working for Mycroft. The life of a spy, it must have been invigorating.”

Victoria squints as she stares at the detective. Where is he going with this? “It was.”

“Then tell us about it.” Sherlock replies.

“I can’t. It’s all confidential.”

“Ah, yes, of course. The government is full of secrets, isn’t it.”

“And I’ve gotten really good at keeping secrets.”

“As I’m sure you have,” Sherlock’s eyebrow twitches. “You’ve had plenty a secret to keep in your past.”

“Yup.” She grins. “But I can assure you that I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Oh, no, I don’t doubt your skills, Victoria.” Victoria cocks her head at Sherlock’s use of her full name. “Mycroft wouldn’t put his trust in just anyone.” Sherlock takes a deep breath in and turns to the Watsons. “Shall we finish the rest of that wine, then?”

“I think we better be off,” John says, a yawn following shortly after. He turns to Mary, “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Mary responds in a soft tone. She gets up and walks over to Sherlock’s bedroom. Sherlock’s eyes follow her, and then glance down to Victoria, who is still glaring at him, trying to read his expression.

Victoria snaps out of it as John places his hand on her shoulder. She looks up at him as he smiles down on her with tired eyes. “Merry Christmas, Tory.” He leans down to kiss her on the cheek.

Victoria smiles. “Merry Christmas.”

John turns to Mary, who has walked into the room carrying a sleeping Olivia. “Ready?” Mary nods. John turns back to the other two. “Bye guys.”

Sherlock smiles at him. “Goodnight, John.”

“Bye,” Victoria says, not bothering to turn around and watch them leave. The two of them sit in a sort of staring contest after they hear the front door close. A few moments later, Victoria gets up from the chair and begins walking out the room. “I’m going to bed.”

“Tory.”

Victoria turns and looks at Sherlock, a bit annoyed with his behavior. “Hm?”

Sherlock glares at her for a few moments, his eyes showing a hint of concern mixed with curiosity and suspect. “Sleep well.”

Victoria nods and walks up to her room.

She closes the door behind her and and walks over to the bed. The moment she sits, her cell phone chirps in her coat pocket. She whips it out to read the text. It's from an anonymous number.

_Merry Christmas, Victoria._

******************************

She wakes later that morning, sitting up to stretch and crack her neck. She looks over to her phone sitting on the bedside table. She has a text message.

_Lestrade called. Not sure how long I’ll be. I put hot water on the kettle. There is no food in the kitchen. Do not open the refrigerator. -SH_

Victoria sighs and scratches her head. She moans and plops her head back onto her pillow. After ten minutes of lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, she decides to finally get up and shower.

She makes her way down the stairs and into Sherlock’s flat, drying her hair. She had thrown on an oversized black jumper over black faux leather jeans. The short heels of her black booties clank across the room’s wood flooring. She throws her towel over John’s chair and heads to the kitchen and makes herself a cup of tea. She holds the steaming cup in both her hands and leans against the counter top.

What the hell is she supposed to do today?

If Sherlock isn’t sure when he’ll be home, then that obviously means that this is some important and intricate case Lestrade has called them for. The boys won’t be home until late that night at the earliest. Victoria sighs and drinks her tea. She throws on her coat and wraps her red scarf around her neck, deciding that a walk around town wouldn’t hurt.

She picks up a bagel at the diner next door before heading down the sidewalk. She’s only been gone three years, and the town seems to have changed quite a bit since then. She watches as couples walk by with love in their eyes and as parents hold the hands of their restless children, pulling them along. Victoria isn’t quite sure where she is going, but the fresh, cool air makes it worthwhile, as well as the delicious bagel warming her throat.

Victoria eventually finds herself at Hyde Park. She walks up to an empty bench and sits, immediately taking out her phone and checking her messages. Still no word from Sherlock or John. She locks her phone and puts it back in her pocket. After a few moments, she whips it out again to look at the message she received last night. She wants to brush it off as if it were nothing, but her gut is telling her otherwise.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

A bit startled, Victoria looks up to find an elderly man standing before her. He’s dressed as if he stepped right out of a 1940s film; bowtie, suspenders, trousers above his belly button, and a flat cap on his head. He wears a pair of glasses almost to large for his face. He has a kind smile, and his old eyes show years of stories waiting to be told. Victoria smiles, “Oh, of course.”

The man nods, “Thank you.” He sits beside her on the other end of the bench, letting out a deep breath as he places his hands on his lap. “Lovely day, isn’t it.”

“Yeah,” Victoria responds, watching as a young couple walks by.

“What brings you here?” The old man asks.

“Just thought it a nice day for a walk.” She looks over at the man. “You?”

“Ah,” he pats his legs. “Clearing my head. Just got a lot on my mind.” He pauses, taking a few deep breaths and watching as a biker goes by. “I proposed to my wife at this very bench.”

Victoria turns to the old man, smiling. “Really?”

“Oh yes, many years ago.” He smiles. “She used to love it here. Always so calming and serene. She would sit at this bench with a notebook and a pen whenever she had writer’s block. Fresh air always helped clear her head.” He looks over at Victoria. “She was a writer, you see. And an absolutely brilliant one at that. Writing’s what kept her going, kept her breathing.” He gestures at the bench they are sitting on. “I thought it would be romantic to propose to her at the place she feels most comfortable. And after we married, we walked about this park hand-in-hand at least once a week.” He looks out in the distance, now facing forward. “We shared so many memories here. We took our daughter here countless times. She grew to love this park just as much.”

Victoria smiles. “And your wife, does she still…”

“Oh no,” the man turns to Victoria, the smile on his face clearly an attempt to hide the sadness in his eyes. “She passed away ten years ago.” He pauses before adding, “Alzheimer's.” 

Victoria’s smile wipes away. Not knowing what else to say, she murmurs, “I’m… so sorry.”

“Oh no, don’t you worry, it wasn’t your fault. It was no one’s fault. Just a fault in nature.” He takes a deep breath and looks away with a smile. “You know, even through all the struggles we faced, we still had our walk around the park every week. This place always brought her memories. She was always happy whenever she was here.” He turns to Victoria again. “My name is Eugene, by the way.”

Victoria nods. “Victoria.”

“I know.”

Victoria furrows her eyebrows, “I’m sorry?”

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you, but you’re a hard woman to reach.”

Victoria slightly leans away from the man, preparing to defend herself if necessary.

The man looks down at the hands on his lap. He begins rubbing the gold band on his left ring finger. “My full name is Eugene Ackerman. You met my daughter, Elizabeth.”

It takes a few moments before Victoria recognizes the name. Elizabeth Ackerman. She had briefly worked with Elizabeth on a mission in Russia a couple years back. She was a soldier working for Mycroft, specifically in intellegence. Mycroft had assigned Victoria to aid Elizabeth and her team on a mission concerning terrorist plans of some sort.

“I uh… I wanted to personally thank you for what you did. I know…” The old Eugene’s voice began to shake. “I know that things didn’t go as planned, the authorities didn’t say much about the incident, but you saved my daughter. And I know… I know that it wasn’t your fault what happened at that hospital, and that was nothing you could have stopped, but you did as much as you could and that’s all a father could ask for.” He takes a deep breath. “Because of you, I was able to speak with my daughter one last time and tell her that I loved her, and I am very grateful for that.”

Victoria looks into the teary eyes of the grieving father. She remains speechless, still trying to grasp his words.

“Before she, um…” Eugene pauses and swallows, not able to say the words to finish that sentence. “She called me. It was three o’clock in the morning. We spoke for about half an hour, mostly about small, trivial things. But then her tone of voice changed. She told me she loved me, I said the same to her, and…” He takes another pause. “And then she told me she needed a favor, in case she couldn’t do it herself.” He reaches into his coat pocket and takes out a small, black USB drive. He looks at it for a few moments before offering it to Victoria. “I don’t know what’s on it. I figured it was never my business. But it’s important, and she felt it urgent that you have it.”

Victoria hesitantly takes the USB from him. She looks at the man with a solemn expression. “Thank you.”

Eugene smiles and nods.

Elizabeth was incredibly smart and cunning. She was the oldest of her peers, and the only woman on the team, but her intellect and courage outshined the rest. She was also one of the most genuine human beings Victoria had ever met, and knowing her for that very brief amount of time was truly a privilege. She was completely heartbroken to find out that the hospital that she had dropped Elizabeth off in was later that week the victim of a terrorist bombing. She has always felt responsible for what happened, and while she has seen much death in her career, that event struck a chord with her and has stayed with her since. 

Feeling obligated to comfort Eugene, Victoria says, “It was an absolute pleasure to work with her. Elizabeth was a good person.” 

He smiles, “Oh I would hope so. Her mother and I raised her to be such.” He pauses, his expression now changing into worry. 

Victoria notices the change and furrows her brows. “Is everything alright?”

He hesitates a bit, deciding whether or not to say his next words. “You shouldn’t be here Victoria. You should leave London immediately.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Eugene looks up at her, a sense of urgency in his eyes. “It’s not safe for you here. You have to leave. Please.”

“Eugene, what are you talking about.”

“Promise me,” he grabs her forearm with a stern grip. He lowers his voice to a near whisper, “Promise me that whatever is on that file, whatever urgent matter Elizabeth has included, that you will fix it. That you will make it right.”

Caught off guard and unsure how to react, she nods her head. “I promise.”

“Thank you,” he lets go of his grip on her arm and looks her straight in the eye. “You are a good person, Victoria, and you deserve much more.” He takes a deep breath, gets up, and walks away without looking back.

Victoria sits there for a few moments, completely baffled by what just happened. She looks down at the USB drive in her left palm before wrapping her fingers around it. She stands up, places her hands in her coat pockets, and begins walking in the opposite direction.

The sun has started to set by the time Victoria steps onto Baker Street. Before she can get to the front door to the flat, however, her phone rings. She takes it out of her pocket to look at the caller I.D. It’s Sherlock.

She answers it. “Yeah?”

Sherlock speaks with a stern tone. _“Where are you?”_

“Uh, Baker Street. Why?”

_“You’re needed immediately.”_

“Wait, what? Why?”

Ignoring her question, he continues, _“I’ll text you the address. And hurry.”_ He hangs up before Victoria can get another word in. Moments later, her phone chirps. She hails a taxi and gives the driver the address on her phone.

\-----------------------------------------

The taxi stops in front of a blockade of police cars and tape. Worried neighbors gather around the scene. The driver turns to Victoria, a bit apprehensive. “Are you sure that you had the right address?”  
Victoria looks out the window at the line of apartments, one of which has police officers walking in and out of it. 

“Yeah, this is it.” She pays the driver and gets out of the cab. She thanks him as she closes the door and heads towards to the crime scene. 

John and Lestrade are standing, waiting on the sidewalk in front of the apartment. They talk low, seeming a bit distressed. Lestrade sighs a breath of relief when he sees Victoria. “There she is.”

Victoria lifts the police tape over her and catches up to the two men. “What’s going on?”

“Sherlock insisted that you come immediately,” John explains as the three of them walk inside the building.

“Yeah, I know, but why?”

John turns to her, confusion and concern in his expression. “The corpse had your name on it.”

Victoria furrows her brows and cocks her head. “What?”

They go upstairs and enter the master bedroom. Forensic officers are moving about the room, gathering whatever evidence they can. Sherlock is over the dead body, which is lying on the floor by the bed in a pool of blood. He looks up the moment the three walk in the room. “Ah, there you are. What took you so long?” He continues before anyone could answer. “No matter, you’re here now. Do you know this man?”

She walks over next to Sherlock to examine the body. Her heart drops the moment she looks at the face.

“Eugene Ackerman.”

“Wait, you know him?” John asks as he quickly walks up to join them by the body.

“Not really. I met him today at the park.”

“And did you two… talk?” Sherlock raises an eyebrow.

“Only briefly. He was mostly talking about his late wife and stuff like that. Nothing really significant.”

Sherlock squints and examines her for a few seconds. He quickly looks back down at the body. “Well, the reason I called is because your name is written on his arm.” He bends down to roll up the dead man’s right sleeve. Victoria’s full name was written on it, neatly, in black permanent marker.

“Victoria Harrow,” John reads. He looks at Victoria. “Victoria Harrow. That’s your full name?”

“Yep,” she responds. 

Sherlock begins to explain how it would have been impossible for Eugene to write that on his arm himself, since he was right handed, as well as the other things he had deduced about the gunshot wound in his head and such. However, Victoria isn’t paying much attention. She can’t help but stare at the dead man lying the floor. His eyes are wide open, as if out of fear. Those same eyes, the ones once so full of memories and stories, are now cloudy and lifeless. He seemed like a good man, a man who did not deserve this, and now she has his blood on her hands too.

“Tory?”

Victoria instinctively turns at the sound of her name. “Huh?”

John looks at her with concern, “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine” She tucks her hands in her coat pockets. “Are we done here?”

“Not quite,” Sherlock continues to examine objects around the room.

John sighs, clearly tired from a long day. “Well, Sherlock, could you hurry up. I would quite like to go home tonight.”

“Well, John, it’s not my problem you’ve had trouble sleeping, let alone sleeping on the couch.”

“Sherlock, don’t even start.”

While the doctor and the detective banter back and forth, Victoria walks over to a dresser by the window. She picks up a framed photograph that is lying faced down. It’s a family photo taken quite a few years ago. Eugene and, Victoria presumes to be, his wife are hugging a young, teenage Elizabeth. Their genuine smiles fill the photo with so much happiness, Victoria can’t help but smile a bit herself. She places the photo back on the dresser, standing upright, and turns back to the others in the room. “Clearly, I’m not needed anymore. So, I’m gonna head back.”

“Alright,” Sherlock says as he examines under the bed on his hands and knees. “Lestrade, go with her.”

“What, sorry?” Lestrade is taken aback by the order.

Victoria sighs, “Sherlock, I’m twenty four and I work for your brother. I think I can take care of myself.”

Sherlock sits up on his heels and looks at Victoria, a matter-of-fact expression on his face. “I just want to make sure you get home.” He turns to the detective inspector. “Lestrade?”

Lestrade sighs, exasperated. He turns to Victoria, “C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”

Satisfied, Sherlock goes back to examining under the bed.

Victoria rolls her eyes and follows Lestrade out the door. As she walks down the stairs, she can briefly hear part John and Sherlock’s conversation.

“What was that for?” John asks.

“I’m just taking precautions,” is the mumbled response from Sherlock she can hear before walking out of the apartment and into the passenger side of Lestrade’s car.


End file.
